


Twinned Lives

by FlyingWrites



Category: Dark Angel (TV), Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-14
Updated: 2019-08-22
Packaged: 2020-09-01 01:54:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20250232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlyingWrites/pseuds/FlyingWrites
Summary: The Winchesters just started hunting, and there's already trouble ahead. They're not the only ones with trouble in their lives, though.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So far the beginning, not meant to be one shot but not sure if the muses will go along with that.
> 
> Comments are love, and sorry for rusty writing, I haven't written anything in aaages.

You're kidding me, Dean says in low whisper, leaning to a wall.

He was just about to make a drink but then Sam warned him against coming into the room, as there was someone moving. Or something. But likely someone, because for someThing it was way too obvious. In fact, it was way too obvious even for a burglar. 

They didn't think their current dump of a staying place would GET a burglar, either. They had practically nothing around, all of their posessions and gear went with them as usual. They didn't leave even the clothes around, for anything that could pick up their scents. Or want to use them in a hoodoo ritual. Or some other ugly witchy mojo. Who the hell even knows, clothes are a serious thing.

What they weren't quite ready for was this someone grinning from the sound of his voice. Eeasy fellas, he says, almost sing song comforting them. The voice sounds mocking, but also sounds that is the default tone of its wearer, something he does to everyone, not only to them. 

Dean narrows eyes at Sam in a silent What the hell, he is outnumbered but WE should be taking it easy? and Sam just slightly nods in a Maybe he's trying to placate us and stalling till others come to him, let's just play along for now. Dean almost eyerolls at him for that unspoken suggestion to go along with an intruder, to their home... alright, a shitty place not worth the laundry quarters much less anything more, but still, a home, anyway... but says nothing.

Both still aiming at the intruder, come to the room. Only to find him sitting comfortably on a sofa and drinking a milkshake. Needed one of those things so bad, the intruder continues, the same casual tone.  
Both brothers internally what the fuck ever? even harder, because the guy looks just like Dean.  
Bit younger Dean, sure, but Dean anyway.  
Dean almost sighs. Just another shifter. Great. He always loved those, even more when they are wearing his face. Reaching for a silver knife to be done with this whole charade, and finally make his drink, the intruder is twisting his wrist behind his back in no time, making him drop the knife, while aiming his own gun at his own brother. The nerve.

Told you to keep it easy, nah? he continues, the same mockery in his voice, and to both brothers' surprise, the playfulness isn't all gone. He puts down the gun, lets Dean go and blurs back to sitting on the sofa.

Now, you could shoot me, or do whatever, but I doubt it's gonna surprise me much, so let's be civil, can we? he asks. Sam swallows, thinking they don't have much of an option and if the guy wanted, it could have been a mess already. Dean almost snarls at him, something of a silent Like hell, motherfucker, you just aimed at Sammy, but shrugs, anyway. Sam wants to talk, obviously, so he can do with it for Sammy's sake and will deal harm to this asshole later, whenever that later comes. They stay standing, facing the intruder.

Righto, of course you wouldn't sit, like the place's undermined, guy continues sarcastically, not returning to his milk.

The fuck are you, Dean finally barks out.  
Guy eyerolls but to his credit, doesn't laugh into their faces, because Dean would have shot him right there if he had, Dean swears to himself.

Name's Alec., he says, offering no more, but an extended hand.  
Sorry uh... for the messy entry.  
Sam sits in front of him, taking the hand, no regard for so broken arm to be, poison darts in that guy's hoodie, or anything else common sense for that matter, and nods.  
Well, you likely know who we are, he starts.  
... So no intro needed, yeah, I gathered that much, Sam., guy continues, not sounding offended.  
After all, he didn't give them his last name, either.

Thing is, I couldn't give a fuck, except my... brother... Ben is bit of a trouble.  
Dean stares at him. You wear my face, how the hell is it my, or our, issue that your anything of a brother freak is in trouble. The animosity must be written all over his face because the young one sighs.

Listen, I get you don't want to help me, or us, for that matter.   
But Ben has your face, and it's got bad.

Dean is about to punch him, or at least TRY, even with the fricking ninja reflexes and all, just for insulting his face, but he doesn't get to it. Not even for the kid moving... but for how intense his stare can be.

Listen, my brother is bit of a hot mess... but that wasn't a shifter that is killing people in your name.  
That was my brother, and we're both way younger than we look, hell than you look, and who we... used to work for, is really done with us.

Yeah, no shit Sherlock, Dean almost says and then he notices the kid angling his head differently... and the barcode on his neck.

Dean makes an internal note one drink may not be enough for this.


	2. Milkshakes Mixed With Madness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the easy ways to get rich are not as appealing they might sound.

Dean closes eyes for a few seconds because the heaviness of it all is bit tad much.

So far for good deeds and deciding to let the shifter go, instead of killing it.  
But Sammy was a soft heart and insisted they hunt monsters, fine, but are not killers like That, Becky saw enough horror that day, they should not kill anything in her house, and so on. Which was exactly the half a minute argument that thing, whatever it was, used to get out. Again.

Then they found it by the road and shot at it, and saw it falling, but Dean considered it enough. He considered running it over, but the monster already drove his beloved baby, and hell no, he was not going to have some asshole on Impala’s tires. Much less a dead monstery thing made of doom. Not that he was made of doom, but this something totally wasn’t as awesome as he. Not even a little bit.

But he was (stupid) awesome enough and let it get away, once.  
Then he failed at killing it again.  
Thinking that did already, case closed, nothing.

The murders stopped for a while, anyway, so all seemed good.  
But here it was, the nightmare was back, the thing was alive and murderous.

... and this chap in his room that almost killed Sammy claims he’s its long lost relative, or something. 

Okay, for starters, he sighs out. You tell me what you guys are.  
It isn’t really a request but he sounds weak and unconvincing even to himself. Doesn’t think this boy - Alec - will really talk to him with the truth. But he mentioned they are in trouble, and the monster is in trouble, and he feels somehow responsible. In Dean’s book, that is fine. Not the guilt bit, clearly, and he certainly doesn’t feel anything for a monster on a hunt, but having someone else lure it out is good. Less work for him. Just fake sympathetic long enough, get to the maybe more careful fucker with his face, and kill both of them. Issue solved. Enough weirdness for Dean’s had, already. 

Not even thinking of the horror of victims. The confusion of cops with seeing him in multiple states. Wait, but there wasn’t a nationwide alert about him, yet. Weird. But he’ll worry about the bad reporting later. Dean isn’t extra sure how the truly bad crimes work, from the suspect angle. But Sammy with his studying killers thing said serial killers evade justice normally for decades, have something called cool off periods in which they live happy apple pie life, and altogether are well behaved monsters, so who knows, maybe even the cops have doubts if this Dean Winchester really did those things, or who Dean Winchester is. 

To transfer databases online and get through the red tape will yet take a while, so maybe the feds didn’t hear of it. Or murders don’t fit their usual petty crimes and felonies profile, confusing even the authorities. Or the authorities consider him suddenly lot more dangerous than before and will not act, much less leak warnings to the press, until having his location and calling other S.W.A.T. team to take him down, for sure, this time.

Okay, the guy in front of him says. He looks unsure, but not of what to say, more that there is too much to say.

Dean’s still thinking of implications of everything he learned about killers from Sam the other day when they dealt with this mess for the first time he doesn’t want the whole pack of it. So he raises fingers at Alec.

One thing a time, buddy, he says, slight smiling. Trying to be relaxed but thinking the tension in his shoulders already gave him out, and he’s sure this Alec guy reads him right.

I’ll start with who you are, Alec says, back to cocky and daring.  
Well sure not monsters, Dean’s this close to slapping him when he notices Sam shaking head with quiet frustration. Just don’t. You asked him to talk, he’s talking, it’s good.

Not what I mean, Alec goes on, lighter, but not amused. Thank goodness, this prick doesn’t really think murder is fun. Maybe. So maybe not entirely like his brother.

I mean, you two are just that. Homework.

Homework? Sam interrups, frowning in confusion. Homework from who? What... kinda homework? he adds slower.

The name isn’t important, Alec shifts position. Neither of the brothers buy he is nervous, by now they figured he is just a good actor, and it’s very important, because he wouldn’t repeatedly mention it like that.

Thing is, you two were just our practice in fitting in to normal society, you could say. An infiltration assignment. 

Turns out we don’t do that great at being normal, huh? Sam’s grinning now, opening a beer.  
Dean is too tense by this time hes not even sure just beer would do, but Sam tosses him a can like nothing’s happening, so he takes what’s offered, his drink be damned. He’ll drink when this is done and they have nothing else to worry about but finding Dad, again.

No, you don’t, Alec agrees, but the way he flickers between them makes Dean edgy. He’s uncomfortable, only NOW?  
Oh, right. Kiddo doesn’t want to piss them off. Guess what, should have thought of that when you threatened Sammy.

So we were... To be you. Both of us. Just a practice of who gets it better, a guy that’s already wanted and on the move, super duper easy exercise. Lay low, get acquainted with normal American life, get comfortable at it.  
Turns out, me and my brother just... We like it here, okay? I thought we like it. He... I just, yeah.

Sam watches the kid and sits closer before Dean can warn him against it.  
Your tattoo, may I see it? he asks as gently as he can. Dean sort of hates him at the moment, and is definitely jealous. Sammy wasn’t this kind even to him... Now he’s being all nursing to some sucker with a psycho brother. Who may or may not be a shifter, jury’s still out on that one.

Alec doesn’t protest that and leans closer to Sam.  
Sam trails fingers over the tattoo, and it doesn’t seem Alec is objecting that, either.  
He now looks younger, vulnerable, almost childlike.  
Like if he were actually seven or so, instead of twenty something he looks.

Sorry, Sam says sheepishly. I know I shouldn’t touch like that, without permission. It’s just, I never seen anything like that in my life. Lots of numbers but never a barcode.

It’s fine. I get you haven’t seen a barcode entrenched with anyone’s DNA yet either, Alec says, still watching Dean. It’s like he can read Dean’s jealousy and rage and racing thoughts, along with Sam’s wanting to care and confusion and turning all of this Just alright, for Dean’s sake and everyone’s, there is surely some nonviolent solution to everything.  
But if he can read them, he doesn’t let that out, and neither of them feel an extra voice or ten intruding in their head, so maybe they’re not yet totally cuckoo. Even with a kid with a barcode on his neck who’s still clutching his milkshake like it’s a life or death situation.

You mean it sticks to you? Sam raises an eyebrow.  
I mean it marks me a property, twenty two billions on the loose, Alec says impatiently.  
Still watching Dean.

Dean frowns harder.  
Right. If that’s the price, and he is that open about it, he almost begs to be taken in... or really hoping I’ll cash on this, first, rather than think of killing him.

So who’s looking to collect? Dean asks.

Lots of people, actually. But the one I’m worried about’s name is White. And I’d hate him to get to my moron brother first.


End file.
